Les Malafices d'Esprits
by d3pr3ss3dNhappy
Summary: For the past three nights, Draco Malfoy has been suffering from nightmares. To free himself from them, he accidentally mis-follows his father's advice.
1. Default Chapter

Unusual Nightime Visits

Summary: For the past three nights, Draco has been haunted by some very disturbing nightmares. In order to free himself of them, he summons a ghost. Unfortunately, the last thing the ghost has in mind is helping him. As a result, Professor Snape learns the unusual snacking habits of two of his students and the readers learn of an unusual pair of pajamas Draco made.

_Draco Malfoy stood nervously in front of the large oak doors. They were shut at the moment, with the golden handles gleaming in the candlelight. He shivered even though there was a very cozy fire burning at the other end of the room. /i Stupid house elf, i he thought/i he knew I would wait here a while, he should have built it up. i He dismissed the silly thought that he might be shivering out of fear, since when was he, a Malfoy, ever scared?_

Swoosh

_The door swung open softly on its polished hinges, Draco drew in a sharp breath, and then quickly released it. It was only the house elf. The wizened creature was precariously balancing a delicate silver tea tray between his two gnarled hands. He wore a broken pair of spectacles and a filthy pillowcase with the letter M embroidered on the edge. _

_"The Master will be with you shortly," the house elf wheezed. Draco sniffed at him in annoyance; he was still new to his training. Ever since his father had lost their last house elf (under circumstances he had never been willing to discuss) he had been scouring the country, searching for another one. The result was the demented creature did an awkward bow, before beginning to hobble off with its burden._

"_Dippy!" he growled at it, "Do not forget that _I_ am your Master as well."_

"_Yes Master," poor Dippy replied, giving Draco another half bow, it was rather difficult to do with the tea tray._

WHACK!

_Draco had delivered a harsh kick into Dippy's backside, causing the elf to sprawl onto the carpet, spilling the tea tray and it's contents. _

"_Remember to give me a full bow," Draco hissed at him, "and clean up that mess, you clumsy fool."_

"_Yes Master," Dippy muttered mutinously, and began to clean up the rug. _

_Draco would have continued to antagonize the unfortunate house elf, but the soft sound of footsteps thudding against the plush carpet stopped him. He straightened unconsciously and turned to face the new entrant. _

_When he entered, Draco drew in his breath without even realizing he was doing it. Before him stood one of the most successful Death Eaters, the one who was going to help them defeat that troublesome half-blood, Harry Potter. His rival. His passion. His enemy. His love. His future. The one and only; Ronald Weasley._

"_Have you talked to him yet?" Ron asked him, his clear blue eyes focusing on Draco's face._

"_No, not yet," Draco answered, stepping on Dippy in effort to get closer to Ron. ("Blast you," cursed Dippy, but Draco didn't pay any notice to him, not with Ron there.)_

"_Well, good luck, I do hope your father approves of our engagement," Ron stepped closer until he was standing over Draco. Draco felt unconsciously aware of how tall Ron was, how his breath ruffled his own hair. _

"_Yes, I feel kind of nervous, waiting here for him," Draco admitted. He would have admitted this to no one but Ron, "but I doubt he would disapprove to the union of our family with so powerful a wizard as yourself."_

"_Yes, well, I do have my dazzling qualities, don't I?" Ron asked, sweeping his hair back in a graceful gesture that took Draco's breath away again, "But listen, don't be nervous, everything will be alright."_

_And then Ron was leaning closer to Draco, poised to kiss…_

"NO!" Draco Malfoy howled, sitting straight up in bed. He jumped out of bed and immediately dunked his head into a large bucket of ice-cold water on the windowsill.

"Uh, I think that's for drinking," Goyle said uncertainly, sitting up, awakened by Draco's scream. "It's a little bit small for a bath."

"Of course it's too small for a bath," Draco snarled. He snatched the sheets off the sleeping Crabbe's bed and began to dry his face with them. ("Grrnn…" mumbled Crabbe, curling up on his bed, but Draco was too busy to pay attention to him.)

"I just needed to…er…clean my head. Yeah, that's what it's for, it's a head bath tub," He added, so as not to look like an idiot, he didn't want to have to explain his nightmare to anyone.

"Oh really?" Goyle asked confused.

"Yes," Draco said, confidant now, "don't tell me you've been drinking a load of wash water all these past years!" He forced out a laugh.

"Uh…"Goyle said in a monotone voice, trying to understand what was going on, then seeing that Draco was laughing, he began to laugh too, "uh-ha ha HAH!"

"Shut up you idiot! I need my sleep, not a slumber party!" Draco growled, he threw the soggy sheets back onto Crabbe's bed and went back to his own. Pulling the covers up to his chin, he closed his eyes and was about to drift off to non-Ron thoughts when someone knocked on the door.

BANG! BANG!

"Goyle, go tell those idiots to go to sleep!" Draco ordered, eyes still closed. Goyle hopped out of bed and landed with a loud thump onto the floor. He lumbered over to the door and pulled it open.

"LISTEN UP YOU IDIOTS—" He began to bellow, but stopped as soon as he saw who was standing in front of him. Actually, Goyle had noticed him the minute he had opened the door, but his brain hadn't properly processed the information until after the damage had been done.

"Yes Goyle?" came Professor Snape's dangerously smooth voice, "I'm listening."

"Uh…um…" was all Goyle could say, obviously lost for words. However, Draco wasn't. As soon as he had heard Professor Snape's voice he had jumped out of bed and dashed to the door.

"Professor! How good to see you," Draco began a bit nervously. Normally he would have been confused as to why Snape was there, but after having two other such night time visits, he knew exactly what to expect, and therefore wished to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

"Mister Malfoy," Snape began, thoroughly irritated, he was wearing a black bathrobe secured tightly around the middle and was carrying his wand a lit. This was, after all, the third time in three nights he had had to come up and investigate, "approximately 15 minutes ago I heard a piercing scream. Being head of this house, I came up to investigate. Now will you please tell me what is the matter?"

Snape really didn't look as though he wanted to hear the answer, however, so Draco decided to give him the short hand version. Alibis chased each other around his mind; before he could chose one of them however, Goyle spoke up.

"Er, Professor?" he asked tentatively, both Snape and Draco turned to look at him in surprise, "It was me, I just found out that I've been drinking wash water these past years."

Snape forced a very unpleasant smile through his lips. "Very good, hopefully you can resolve your dilemma _without_waking up your fellow students?"

"Yes, Professor," Goyle muttered, looking down at his feet.

"Good," Snape straightened himself a little bit, "and be sure to get your sleep you have the Quidditch match tomorrow."

With that, he turned and descended the staircase, leaving Draco to gape at Goyle as the door closed.

"Since when do you think that you can make up the excuses?" He growled at him, the fact that the excuse had worked was not processed. Only the thought that he, Draco Malfoy, had not been the one to come to the rescue was mulled over.

"Uh…um…well you were looking kind of like Crabbe usually does, and I just thought…uh…"Goyle trailed off, afraid.

"Drinking wash water?" Draco asked, still incredulous, "Where the bloody hell did that come from?"

"Well you said…and the head bath…and I've been…there's cups right next to it…"Goyle mumbled.

"It doesn't matter," Draco fumed, turning over to his bed, "what matters is the fact that I can't get these bloody nightmares out of my head." He fumbled around in his trunk for a few moments, frowning in the darkness.

"Grrnnff!" Crabbe snorted in his sleep. Angry that he could not find what he was looking for, Draco lobbed a book at his bed.

"GRNAFF!" Crabbe howled in pain. He sat upright holding the book in one hand and a few teeth in the other; the book had hit him in the face, knocking a few of his teeth out.

BANG! BANG! _Pop!_

The door flew open. In its threshold stood a very discontented Professor Snape.

"Mister Malfoy," he spat through clenched teeth, "how long will it take to occur to you that there are other people here who _need their sleep_" he was seething with anger, "What was the excuse this time? More wash water?"

"No Professor," Draco started, his excuse clearly formed in his head now, but Crabbe, who came waddling forward, cut him off.

"I woke up wiff a book in my mouff, Pwofessor," Crabbe explained. He held out his hand with his two teeth in it.

The situation had become awkward for Severus Snape, a few minutes ago it had been a simple matter of getting some sleep, now it had morphed into two students with unusual snacking habits and some missing teeth. He could turn and walk away, but then he would be questioned the next morning as to why he had ignored student injuries. Resigned, he drew a deep breath.

"Come with me, Mr. Crabbe," he sighed, "you can spend the night in the hospital wing."

Crabbe and Snape left, but just before they had turned the corner, Professor Snape turned around and hissed at the two remaining occupants, "Let this be the last I hear of it!"

Goyle shut the door for a second time as Draco proceeded to pick apart one of Crabbe's pillows in frustration.

"Take that you filthy little (fill-in-the-blank), stealing my excuses!" Draco snarled, pulling out feathers and fluff. Finally, when the pillow had been completely demolished, he focused back to the real reason he had awoken. That dream…nightmare…night horror in which he…and Weasley…?

No. It was impossible; his brain was too well developed to think such thoughts. Still Draco shuddered all the same. He began to pace on the stone cold floor, thinking of what to do.

"Concoct a dreamless sleep potion…build a giant dream block…"

"Uh…Draco…" Goyle drawled, uncertain.

"…spray my bed with a big can of anti bed-bug spray…" Draco continued, pacing the stone floor, brainstorming for ideas, and coming short.

"Um…Draco…"

"…Wear my I-Hate-Ron pajamas…only then it could make it worse…after all I'd be sleeping with his image…. bleah…why did I ever make those as a first year?"

"…Draco…" Goyle tried one last time.

WHOOSH!

"Will you please stop that Goyle!" Draco cried, frustrated, he had lost his train of thought. Then he saw that Goyle was pointing towards the small fireplace in the room. It had burst into flame spontaneously and a small piece of parchment had emerged.

"Oh," Draco said. He was losing his cool, for a moment he panicked, what if his minion lost faith in him? Then an appropriate excuse arrived and he directed it straight at Goyle. "Why didn't you pick it up?" he demanded angrily, trying to appear in control, as always.

"But…uh…"Goyle stuttered, thoroughly confused again. He decided it would be best to do as he was told, so he quickly crossed to the fireplace and picked up the scrap of paper. He then scuttled back to Draco with the piece of paper. Draco snatched it from his hand and unrolled it.

"What does it say?" Goyle asked quietly.

"Shh!" Draco shushed him. He bent over the tiny sliver of paper. It was his father's handwriting.

_Draco,_

_Why is it that an owl in the middle of the night has awoken me? Well, I'll give you the answer, it's because my son has a nightmare. A nightmare! Three nightmares in fact! Get a hold of yourself please! You don't see other people running around complaining about their dreams._

"Potter does," Draco grumbled here, then stopped. If he was turning into Potter…that was possibly even more disturbing than his Weasley dreams. No, wait maybe it wasn't because then he would actually be kissing the slimy weasel. Hoping to find some advice, he eagerly scanned the rest of the letter.

_If you really need some help, I would advise you to ask your noble, esteemed ancestor; Lucius Malfoy the first, sometime in the morning. Good night._

That was it. The end of the letter. Draco sighed, disappointed, it hadn't really been of much help. Lucius Malfoy the first? Who the heck was he? Some dead guy? That was the best advice his own father could give him, to summon a dead ancestor? What on earth could a dead guy do? Still…this was the third nightmare he had had…maybe it was worth a shot. He couldn't wait until the morning; he would need to start the séance now!

"Goyle!" Draco said abruptly, "We need to go get some supplies."

_One hour later _

Draco and Goyle were sitting opposite each other on the cold stone floor of their Slytherin dormitory. In between them was a small circle of five crystals. Draco and Goyle were busy chanting.

_"Viens esprit, viens esprit…"_Draco was half singing, his eyes closed.

_"Vivent esprit, vivent esprit…" _Goyle chanted, unaware that he wasn't chanting the right incantation. Draco's eyes popped open, he had noticed.

"Goyle! It's 'viens esprit'! Not 'vivent esprit'!" Draco raged. He stood up, ready to give Goyle a hard shake, when wisps of smoke began to enter the circle. Thinking better of it, Draco stepped back to watch the smoky tendrils weave and grow, stronger and stronger. Now very worried, Draco quickly consulted the book he had used, he didn't see anything about using the wrong words.

"Uh…Draco…"Goyle began, the smoke was taking a more defined shape.

"What now?" Draco asked, upset. He shut_ Les Malafices D'Esprit _in his frustration and turned his gaze to the whirling smoke. It had now taken the shape, inside the circle of crystals stood a small wizard; he was wearing a rather demonic expression as he gazed up at Malfoy and Goyle.

"Who summoned me?" he asked in a bit of a cackle.

"Uh…are you…Lucius Malfoy the first?" Draco asked tentatively

"No," The ghost gave an evil grin.

Draco silently cursed himself, "Then who are you?" he asked, as he searched for the piece of parchment he had scribbled the vanishing of spirits spell on. He would need it to get rid of this meddlesome ghost. Stupid Goyle, chanting "_ vivent esprits" _he thought.

"I'm Satan," the ghost stated, giving a malicious smile and staring at Draco as he thumbed through the book._How bloody fantastic,_ Draco thought, _we've summoned a real coot! That idiot Goyle…_ The little ghost looked around the room curiously, but he wouldn't step out of the circle of crystals.

"Found it!" Draco said, waving the piece of parchment in the air, " _Vas t'en, esprit! Departer de cette place, esprit!_" he read. The ghost stepped away, seemingly surprised that he could leave the circle of crystals, realizing that he could, he tore out of the room to unknown whereabouts.

"That was a complete waste," Draco cursed, slamming his book shut and kicking around the crystal, "at least I got rid of it. I'll work on the nightmares tomorrow." And with that, he lay down on his bed and promptly fell asleep. Goyle did the same.

Outside, however, someone was eagerly rejoicing in his newfound flesh and blood…

_A/N: Translations are necessary, I feel, because they are major foreshadowing. 'Vivent esprits' means 'live spirits'. Also, Draco's "vanishing" spell went like this: 'Leave spirit! Leave this place!' Oh, and for those who are curious, the title means: 'The evil doings of spirits'. And yes, it's all French because I'm too lazy to learn Latin._


	2. Satans, snitches and schizophrenia

Chapter 2: Satans, snitches and schizophrenia

Summary: At last, the most anticipated Quidditch match of the week has arrived. And with it, a sleep deprived Draco Malfoy. However, not all goes as planned when an outside force decides it is his time to be introduced. Against his will, Draco is forced to work with the Gryffindor trio and rid himself of this new malice.

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything remotely recognizable. For example, once I had an iPod but then I dropped it in a puddle of mud and now most people give me funny looks when I listen to it because it looks like I'm listening to a blob of mud._

_Disclaimer: Keep in mind that by naming one of my characters "Satan" I am not trying to insult any one or their religions. It's just of a humor challenge I undertook._

_Disclaimer: Schizophrenia was added to the chapter title after the unusual reports I got of people seeing ugly blue monsters after reading this chapter. Let me clarify that these oddlings are NOT REAL. But they will go away if you review..._

* * *

Even though it was a Saturday, Draco Malfoy woke up bright and early. Of course, it was anything but bright in the dingy dungeons where the Slytherins lived. But Draco hopped out of bed feeling considerably awake. The goings on of last night was simply a bad feeling nagging at him from the recesses of his brain. He stretched and pulled out his Quidditch robes. Today was the first game of the season, against the Slytherins mortal enemy; Gryffindor. Goyle, however, was still asleep and seeing as he was one of the team's beaters, it was necessary that he wake up.

"Goyle! You huge lump of mashed potatoes, get up!" Draco hollered over in Goyle's direction as he quickly dressed himself in green and silver, the color of his house.

" 'S morning already?" Goyle asked stupidly, sitting up in bed. He blinked dully around him, he saw Malfoy dressing in his Quidditch robes and decided he would do the same. Quidditch was one of the very few things that could get hi s brain working at nearly normal level.

They were joined by Crabbe (who was sporting his teeth again) in the Great Hall for a quick breakfast. And then it was out to the Quidditch field for a pre-game pep talk. Though this usually turned into Gryffindor bashing.

"Look, Draco," Slytherin's Quidditch captain was explaining to him, "just try to spot the snitch before Potter, that's our best bet. Unless," he gave Draco a hopeful look, "you've thought of anything to distract them again? That song last year was brilliant."

"I can't work continuously," Draco said waving him off airily, "it even takes geniuses a while to come up with genius plans."

"Right-o then," the captain said, patting Draco on the shoulder before turning to Crabbe and Goyle, "Now you fellows, you need to remember that you only want to hit the little black balls when you're flying around. Hitting anything you can doesn't always work to our advantage."

* * *

"It's almost ready," the wizard mumbled the wizard to himself, twiddling his fingers together as he pored over an ancient map. He was sitting in a grove of dead trees. All of them were blackened as though they had recently been burned. "Now to summon someone…"

His eyes lit upon a large field upon his map, where dots were beginning to move around rapidly. "Perfect," he breathed. He pulled out a small pouch and dipped his thumb and forefinger into it. The hand came up with a small pinch of white powder.

Muttering to himself, the mysterious wizard began to sprinkle the powder onto the vellum upon which the map had been written. The powder lay there for a bit then melted into the map. The wizard sat back, satisfied.

"Now to wait for the suckers to come on in," he said, smacking his lips together and leaning against a dead tree to relax.

* * *

"And Slytherin has the Quaffle, but Weasley, Ginny, my girlfriend the most gorgeous girl on the team if I do say so myself, is flying pretty close on their heels. She's an excellent flyer, my girlfriend…um…have I mentioned she's my girlfriend?" Dean Thomas asked. He was doing announcements for the Quidditch game and had just started dating Ginny Weasley, who happened to be a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Dean Thomas, if I am going to have to put up with everything that Lee Jordan put me through I myself will give you detention!"

"Right, professor, the game, and only the game. Hey, you know…my girlfriend's in the—"

"Game, Thomas!"

"Yes, that's what I was saying…Oh! You mean to focus on the i Quidditch /i game, right-o Professor." Dean said, giving her a small salute and turning back to the Quidditch game. "Well, it's still Slytherin with the Quaffle, Ginny's glaring at me because I'm embarrassing her and—"

_WHAM!_

A bludger had just shot past Ginny's face and hit the Slytherin chaser with the Quaffle head on. He dropped the ball and started swerving around lazily. Ginny raced downwards to grabbed the Quaffle.

"So, that was Goyle with a very hard bludger shot aimed directly at…his own team. You may have to get glasses Goyle!" Dean yelled. The Gryffindors erupted into laughter while the Slytherins scowled.

Flying around up above, Draco rolled his eyes in embarrassment. It was bad enough that Goyle was completely clueless on land. But in the air he was more than helpless. As for himself, he was busy keeping an eye on Potter. He knew it was no use to look for the snitch himself, that would require too much effort. Instead, if he could just tag along with Potter, he would know when he had seen it. Potter had a terrible poker face and couldn't help revealing almost every single one of his emotions.

But Potter was acting kind of funny. His face became very determined. He stopped, and turned and shot like a rocket right by Malfoy.

"And Potter's seen something! Yes, he's heading towards the end of the field, he's going, going…. going…going…gone! Potter's left the field! Now there's someone who really needs to answer the call of nature," Dean continued commenting on the game.

The rest of the Gryffindor team was looking kind of confused; after all, their Seeker had just torn off in the complete opposite direction of the Quidditch field and was no longer visible among the dense foliage of the Forbidden Forest.

"Draco! What are you waiting for?" howled the Slytherin team captain, waving his arms at Draco, "Follow him!"

So Draco turned his broom in the direction Potter had gone and flew after him.

"Alright, so two Seekers down!" Dean was announcing, "And the score is 60-0. It looks like Weasley's charm is staying; so far not one goal has gotten past him. Have I mentioned that I'm dating his sister?"

* * *

The twigs tore at Draco as he flew deeper and deeper into the forest. He had the sinking feeling that this was a fool's chase. But he kept on going anyways, determined to find Potter. The smell of burnt wood began to reach his nose. He followed it almost instinctively until pretty soon he realized that he couldn't stop. His broom had a mind of it's own and it was determined to carry him deeper into the forest.

At last the broom stopped in the middle of a small clearing. Around the edges were burnt trees. Standing amongst them, looking about surprised was Potter.

"So, Potter," Draco snarled, dismounting from his broom, "What's the plan this time? Lure me out here, knock me out and then fly back to get the snitch?"

Potter was looking kind of confused, "No, I'm not exactly sure why I came here."

An evil cackle exploded from the tree nearby. Both Draco and Potter jumped. From behind the tree stepped a small wizard. Draco received a small shock when he realized it was the exact same wizard he had summoned the night before.

"I thought I told you to disappear," he began, confused.

"You did," the wizened wizard said, hi s face breaking into a large grin, "And I left! Disappeared! Whatever you want to call it! And now I've decided to bring you here," he spread out his arms to encompass the entire empty, burnt clearing.

"Welcome, to my first evil lair, well, for this century at least," he said giving a small bow to Potter and Draco. They both stared at him, apparently confused.

_Crash!_

A figure in scarlet came tumbling through the burnt foliage. He landed with a plop on the ground before stumbling to his feet and straightening his robes. Draco drew in a small breath, it was another one of his worst enemies; Ronald Weasley.

Ron stared around the dark clearing. His eyes traveled from Harry to Draco to the small wizard grinning wickedly.

"Who are you?" he asked the little man, confused.

The little man grinned at him delightedly, "I'm Satan!" said Satan.

"Bloody hell," said Ron.

"Ron!" Harry Potter yelled at his friend, "What about the Quidditch game?"

"Well, it ended, Crabbe aimed a bludger in some obscure direction and it ended up flattening the snitch. So Gryffindor won," Ron explained. He then turned back to the deranged wizard, "What do you mean, you're Satan?"

"Exactly what I said," the little man explained proudly, "I am Satan. Ultimate evil being, and in less than a week I plan to take over the whole world and make it a living hell that I alone rule!"

At this statement he began to cackle evilly, spreading his arms out. For a small moment the sky turned dark and a streak of lighting hit the ground at his feet. Then it all disappeared and the little old man was left gazing ecstatically at the sky.

"Right, you go do that," Ron said kindly to the tiny man. He was obviously insane and it is usually best to treat such people with kindness and gentleness otherwise they tend to over react. However this only served to infuriate the little man even more.

"Oh, I will!" he cried out, puffing out his chest, "And sacrificing i you /i will be my first step in that direction!"

"Come what?" Ron asked, confused. He looked to Harry and Draco for an explanation. Both of them shrugged.

"Usually I need Hermione to provide me with answers," Harry said.

Draco snorted, "That's obvious, an idiot like you needing to rely on a mudblood for brains, might as well be going to Longbottom."

"Don't call her a mudblood," Harry said, pulling out his wand, angry now.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry's wand flew from his hand, but it wasn't Draco who had spoken the spell. It was 'Satan'. As the three young wizards stared at him in amazement, he pocketed his own wand.

"Now, I can't have you destroying each other, I need to do that later," he chuckled evilly at them. Then he turned to Draco, "because the little red head came, I'm letting you off the hook. You just need to help me prepare their bodies."

"What? Why does he get off the hook?" Ron demanded, angry now.

"Because he summoned me," Satan said, as though this were obvious.

"What?" Harry demanded angry again, he glared at Malfoy, "This is a trap! You summoned him to summon me to summon Ron to destroy us because of our rivalry!"

"No! No, honestly, it's not," Draco protested, "It was an accident."

"Yeah, that's probably true," Ron admitted, "can you imagine him coming up with that elaborate a scheme?"

Harry paused, then nodded, "Yeah, I guess your right, he doesn't have a Hermione to give him answers." Draco was about to shoot back a reply when Satan interrupted.

"Look now, boys," he said spreading out his hands, "I haven't got all day.," with that he pulled out his wand and tied all three boys to trees, "Now be good."

With that, he left with an elegant _whoosh_ of his cloak.

* * *

"Alright, alright, I've got one," Ron said an hour later. "I spy with my little eye…something black."

"A dead tree," Harry said, very bored.

"Yeah, you're right again," Ron said despondently, "I guess there's not much else to see when you're in the middle of a dead forest."

"Well then stop trying to see more," Draco said testily. They'd been trying to amuse themselves for about an hour and 'Satan' still hadn't returned.

_Crunch crunch._

It sounded as though someone had stepped on a twig. The three boys held their breaths, it sounded as though their captor was returning. More crunching could be heard and slowly a figure began to appear. But it wasn't the little deranged wizard, it was…

Hermione Granger.

"Ron! Harry!" she shouted, a twig was stuck in her hair and she looked thoroughly annoyed, "What have you been doing this time?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Harry answered, "exploring the forest…appreciating nature… and getting captured by an insane wizard who my arch-rival summoned and wants to turn the world in to a living hell!"

Hermione turned to Ron for confirmation. He nodded, "It's true, Malfoy has managed to screw the world over."

"And as if you've never done that!" Draco protested. Hermione turned and noticed him for the first time.

"Wait a minute, _you_ summoned this crazy psycho bent on global domination?" she asked for clarification. Draco scowled at her.

"I don't answer questions from a mudblood," he sneered.

"Fine then," Hermione tossed her head, the twig in her hair fell out, "you can stay here," she bent to untie Ron and Harry.

"No! Wait!" Draco shouted, panicking as both Harry and Ron started standing up, "Untie me please! I can tell you how to get rid of Satan!"

"And how would you do that?" Hermione asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Well, I summoned him, didn't I?" Draco answered, as though it were obvious. He was, of course bluffing, but good people are easy to manipulate and so Harry and Ron walked over to untie him. Once he was back on his feet, he swayed, feeling a little bit unsteady and then fell, right into Ron.

"Whoa, easy there mate," Ron said pushing Draco away. He stumbled back.

"No mate. You do not call me mate," Draco snarled, the recent memories of his nightmares still present in his mind.

"Uh…sure, no mate-ing for you," Ron looked a bit taken aback. Draco looked pretty angry, his cheeks flushing pink, apparently from anger. Little did Ron know that it was actually from embarrassment. He turned and they all left the forest to return to Hogwarts and ponder their current problem.

* * *

_Hogwarts Library_

"Okay," Hermione said, putting a few books on a table in a secluded corner of the library. Gathered around the table were Harry, Ron, Draco and Goyle. Draco had brought Goyle along for moral support. He was unlikely to be any other help because he still stumbled over words longer than five letters. He would have liked to bring along Crabbe, but his other friend had been in the middle of a mob of Slytherins angry with him for messing up their game so Draco had decided to leave it.

"What do you remember about getting rid of that…thing," she asked Draco.

"Huh?" Draco asked, tearing his gaze from Ron's hand. He was trying hard not to stare at Ron, but that was rather difficult to do when his eyes kept sliding back to Ron. So he had compromised and decided to stare only at his hand. "Oh, um…actually…I was bluffing so you would untie me from that tree."

Hermione closed her eyes and banged her head on top of one of the books very slowly, "I. Can't. Believe. This," she said each time she hit her head on the book.

"But you must have some useful information," Harry persisted.

"Look Potter, my father told me to summon this guy and I did, end of story," Draco said glaring at Harry.

"Wait, your _father_ told you to summon him?" Hermione asked, lifting her head from the book.

"Um, yes," Draco said, "well, he said'_ask your noble, esteemed ancestor, Lucius Malfoy the first, sometime in the morning.'_"

Hermione stared at him, "When did you get this note?"

"Last night," Draco answered, not comprehending where this questioning was heading, "you see he had been awoken by an owl about my…never mind, why do you care anyways Granger?"

"Are there any other Lucius Malfoys in your family?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

"Well, no, not that I know of…but he probably came from a long time ago." Draco explained.

"Splendid, I always knew your family was evil," Ron put in, "now it turns out that one of your ancestors was actually Satan himself!"

"Ron, don't be ridiculous," Hermione chastised him. She turned to Draco, "Your father was simply asking you to bother him with your questions in the morning," she explained, "He wasn't telling you to conduct a séance!"

"Oh," said Draco, then it hit him, "I-I knew that. I just…um…"

Hermione interrupted him, rubbing her temple with her fingers as though she were beginning to get a headache, "That would mean that you summoned some random, insane wizard who believes himself to be Satan."

"Lovely," Harry said, "now how do we get rid of him?"

"Well," Hermione said, frowning, "we'll need to find out who he really was back in his day and then try to figure out how he died the first time."

"Excellent," Ron said unhappily, "we'll need to pull out all the books on insane wizards and read through them. Again."

"Again?" Draco asked puzzled, "You mean you've already read all those books?"

"No, "Harry explained, "but in our first year we cleaned out the library looking for Nicholas Flamel."

Draco decided not pursue the subject. The last thing he wanted to know was their quirky hobbies. Instead he asked, "Is there an easier way?"

"Actually, there is," Hermione said, sitting up, "I'll just ask Professor Binns, he probably knows all about insane wizards and their ghosts."

"Yeah," Ron drawled. "Let's face it, the guy spends his afterlife_teaching_."

"It's probably great for the school budget," Harry reasoned, "You don't need to pay ghosts."

* * *

_A/N: The end of another chapter! Ideas about who the wizard is and how to defeat him are helpful! Oh, and if you haven't already, read my other stories. Since you're in the humor section, I'm guessing you'll enjoy "Founding of Hogwarts"._


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